


Murphy's Law

by gerty_3000



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:26:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4141200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerty_3000/pseuds/gerty_3000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murphy's Law; Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, is a law very well applied to Richard Hendricks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murphy's Law

Night sweats.

Jared seemed to think that 'night sweats' meant exclusively bed wetting, because of what it could be alluded to, not entirely actually meant as... what was happening. Richard hadn't wet the bed since he was... Well. Admittedly, it had happened once when he was in his late teens, but that was because of the odd phenomenon that, in his dream, he was having a really good piss, but it turned out that he was actually just wetting the bed.

But that was beside the point! Disregarding that one time, he hadn't wet the bed since he was probably five years old. It was embarrassing that Jared kept insinuating he was a bed-wetter, because the only thing Richard was wetting the bed with was copious amounts of sweat. Speaking of, it was four in the morning and he was jolted awake again, chest heaving with sharp breaths, his skin clammy and cold with a sheen of sweat.

He felt sick, a queasiness in his stomach that clenched when he smelled himself. Richard figured he was dehydrated, shuddering in the air as he quietly shoved the blankets off of himself and slipped off the bed. The CEO cast a weary glance to Jared, who, while his face was contorted in what could be assumed was sheer terror, had at least stopped his bizarre shrieking. Richard shook his head and mopped at his forehead with his shirt, sneaking past the sleeping man and making his way to the kitchen. He filled a cup with cold water from the tap, gulping it down like the stranded-in-the-desert-level-of parched person he was, and promptly filled it again, and drank it again.

Richard, feeling... not at all better, decided on a shower. He smelled rank, and his clothes clung to his skin in a disgusting, wet hug. The man quickly sneaked to the bathroom, ignoring the slight creaks and groans of the floor beneath his bare feet. The shower was long, almost forty-five minutes. The hot water was amazing against his clammy skin, rinsing away a nights worth of sweat and terror, and it eased him to a certain degree. He washed himself off, and simply stood for a long time before he finally came out, toweling off and walking back to his room with the towel wrapped around his waist. 

Jared was still asleep, snoring softly, and Richard took that as a blessing. It was nice to know at least someone in the house was having a good night's rest. Well. He assumed. He couldn't entirely judge how Dinesh, Gilfoyle, Erlich, or Jian Yang was sleeping. It couldn't have been too bad, considering their hateful banter was kept up at a leisurely pace during the day. Richard tugged open his dresser drawer, pulling a pair of boxers out and pulling them on.

Knowing his luck, though, Richard was bound to fuck up. His toes got stuck on the waistband, knee hiked up to his chest, and he lost his balance. The CEO yelped as he toppled over, hitting the ground with a mighty crash. He sat in the dark silence for a few tense moments, staring wide-eyed at the cot, hoping he hadn't woken Jared.

Of course, once the proverbial dust settled, Jared sat up, staring wide-eyed back at Richard. He blinked a few times, hair sticking up in all directions and lips drawn in a concerned frown. He cleared his throat, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head.

"R-Richard? Are you OK? Are you still having 'night sweats'?" Even at five in the morning and just having woken up, Jared managed to put scare quotes in his words of 'night sweats', as if to imply that he still thought Richard was pissing himself in his sleep. It didn't help that the CEO was caught with his boxers around his knees.

"Yes, Jared, I am still having night sweats. I'm not- I'm- I'm just sweating though, ok? I'm just... sweating. It's not peeing, its not- it's not anything else." He huffed, flustered and quite frankly, pissed off, at Jared's concern. It was nice to be worried about, but not when that worry was in the wrong place. Jared should have been worried about the actual sweating, not some thinly veiled code-name for peeing the bed! Richard stood up with a huff, quickly pulling his boxers up and shaking his head, a tight, horrible feeling clenching in his stomach. 

"I... know a way to help." Jared said, clutching the hem of his blanket a bit nervously.


End file.
